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I Have Issues

So I read the kids a book while they were eating lunch today (taking the advice my friend Diane left on this post!). I picked one of my favorites, Sammy and the Dinosaurs by Ian Whybrow.

I’m sure you’ve heard of it, it’s pretty famous, and I think they even made a real toy bucket full of dinos for a while. But in case you haven’t, this thoughtful / quiet / loving / determined / focused little guy (who probably totally reminds me of Younger and that’s why I love him so) finds a box of dinos in grammy’s attic, carries them everywhere, loses them on the train, and has to go find them.

I have been doing this job for seven years, and reading this book for ten years, and still, every single time, when I get to the rescue, I burst into tears.

Come back my Triceratops!

Look at his little face! Maybe it’s just the face that gets me. Maybe it’s because I lost some favorite toy in my childhood and never got it back (I’m not blaming you Mom, I don’t remember this actually happening, I’m just saying maybe it did).

Maybe I’m sad for all the kids it happened to. Maybe I feel guilt over finding someone else’s favorite lost toy and bringing it home rather than to the lost and found. Maybe I feel his pain, that loss when you thought you’d never see your favorite thing again, and how much you loved it, and how desperate you were to get it back.

Maybe it’s because I wish we lived in a world that was as sensitive and kind to children as the lost and found guy is. He totally plays along, tells Sammy he’s got some dinos but how does he know they’re his dinos? And Sammy, with all of his trusting little heart, closes his eyes, calls out their names, and the lost and found guy lines each one up on the counter so when Sammy opens his eyes – there they all are. They came when they heard him call.